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Pony Stable, a new Stallion is brought to the Farm.

He advanced toward her with several more steps, moving past Badru and his companions. She shifted slightly on the smooth stone upon which she sat, but did not move back in fear of offending him.

She knew she should remind him of the fact that she was betrothed, but Yorigthi already knew that, didn't he? Afternoon sunlight filtered in through the latticed shutters of the hall, casting stripes of shadow as he moved. And then she noticed that the dust motes had stopped moving as well, tiny flecks of gray and white illuminated in the shafts of light. He stopped at the edge of the floor, and even though she was seated several feet up the stone platforms, he still looked down at her. It was one thing that made the cliff-dwellers so intimidating - all records of them had them at least a head taller than the average man. Her father recalled one with purple-tinted skin, and her grandfather remembered one with rust-colored skin from when he was just a boy. But all of these cliff-dwellers had been tall, even to the biggest persons in the village at any given time.

And this one desired her. For all the collective knowledge the village had of the Teuthids, she could recall nothing about them having interest in women. What did the desire of a cliff-dweller entail?

Desire. She knew what would be expected of her when she married, and she wondered what Yorigthi would ask of her in this respect. Her thoughts inevitably shifted to what he had under his robes. Were the anatomical differences down there, between a human and a Teuthid as drastic as the difference in their faces? What if he had another tentacle down there, or a bunch of them, or...

"My lord?" she asked, his movement pulling her attention back to the present., who was staring off with a mixture of fear and consternation on his face, his eyes fixed at the space where Yorigthi had been standing.

"Did you consent to this betrothal?" he asked, gesturing to Badru with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"My parents arranged it. As our people have always done." She glanced at the man in question. He was tall and while not quite handsome, was good-looking enough. He was healthy and had a sizable inheritance. As far as anyone knew, he had no major faults like excessive drinking or gambling. From the eyes of the parents, it was a good match, and Badru had actually been a prospect for several girls and women. Nalaisi knew that she was considered lucky by her rivals.

Yorigthi stared at her, considering her words as he twisted one of his tentacles around a finger. Nalaisi knew how many there were, she'd counted them the first time she'd ever seen him. Eight tentacles that extended past his chest to his waist, and a pair that were nearly twice as long, sometimes loosely looped around his shoulders. Where the nose and lips should be, the tentacles started.

"Yes. I have observed some of the traditions of your people, and others." He paused, lightly tapping a finger of his other hand against his staff. "It is as I have told these men, I have no need for their lands or gold. What I would find much more valuable, is time with you."

"And this... in exchange for your mercy towards them?" she ventured.

"If that is what you wish to call it..." He shrugged. "Yes."

"What are your terms?"

"A day and night with you. From one sunrise to the next. In exchange, I will demand only a favor to be called from them, at a future time."

Nalaisi stared at him thoughtfully, and he raised the ridge above his eye in a gesture she recognized as a quirk of the eyebrow. It took a moment to notice because Yorigthi, like the rest of his race, was devoid of hair.

A day and a night, she mused. From one morning to the next. That did not seem like much time to her, and she wondered if there was some trickery.

He lifted a foot, placing it on the level closest to the floor, lightly resting his hand on his knee. She noticed the long, strong fingers, her gaze moving up his arm and back to his face.

"Am I so repulsive to you that you hesitate when the life of two people who

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